


Between The Lines Of Fear And Blame

by BisexualHannibalLecter



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Torture, Psychological Trauma, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisexualHannibalLecter/pseuds/BisexualHannibalLecter
Summary: “I’m very careful about what I put into my body.”Hannibal Lecter explains to Will why he prepares most of his meals himself. It is not a happy story.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Mischa Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 99





	Between The Lines Of Fear And Blame

**Author's Note:**

> I see this taking place sometime in season two, seeing as how that is when Hannibal first mentions his sister Mischa. The backstory of Hannibal cannibalizing Mischa unknowingly comes from the original books, and I prefer this to the show's interpretation of Hannibal eating Mischa to grieve her.
> 
> Title comes from the song "How To Save A Life" by The Fray

_“I’m very careful about what I put into my body.”_

Will takes a sip of whiskey as he relaxes in the warmth of the fire. He looks over to Hannibal across the room. Neither of them have spoken for what must have been two hours, so Will decided to think back on their time together. 

Now that Will knows what Hannibal is, knows what he does, something about that statement makes him curious. What would prompt Hannibal to be careful?

He takes another sip, and says, “What did you mean by that?”

“By what?” Hannibal asks, looking away from the fire to give Will his full attention.

“When you said you’re very careful about what you put into your body. What did you mean by that?”

Hannibal chuckles. “Will, that was many months ago. What brought you to consider this particular memory?”

Will hums. “We weren’t talking, so I just started thinking.”

“Apologies,” Hannibal says. “It seems that I am being a bad host.”

“It _seems_ that you are deflecting,” Will says, beginning to study Hannibal’s expression. “Back to my question. What did you mean?”

Hannibal looks back at the fire. He opens his mouth, as if to speak, and then closes it after a few seconds. He brings his wine glass to his mouth and downs what’s left.

“It seems that I am out of wine,” he says, rising from his chair. He leaves for a moment, and comes back with the bottle. “Are you sure you want to know the story behind what I meant?” he asks.

Will nods silently.

Hannibal sits back down, pours himself another glass, far more than what he had been sipping on earlier, and looks at Will.

“Do you remember when I told you about Mischa?” he asks, taking another long sip.

“Yes,” Will replies. “Your sister.”

“My younger sister, yes. She was eight when it happened. I was nearly fourteen.”

“When what happened?” Will asks, slow and cautious. An uneasy feeling begins to fill him as he holds Hannibal’s gaze.

“When I ate her.” 

Will is stunned, and during the absence of response Hannibal drinks more wine.

“I assure you, the action was involuntary.” Hannibal pauses, thinking over his choice of words. “They did not force the food down my throat, but they did not tell me it was her,” he clarifies. “It was not until several years later that I found out.”

“How did you find out?” Will asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

“I hunted down and killed every single man involved in harming her,” he answers. “When I finally came face to face with the group’s leader, the man who I was told had personally dispatched my sister and fed her to me, I carved her initial into him until he died.” Hannibal looks down at the wine in his glass, nearly gone again. “It felt good, in the moment, but the emotional fallout of the event was...not ideal.” He finally looks at Will again. “I miss her.”

Will sets his drink aside and walks over to Hannibal, taking his glass from him and setting that aside as well. He kneels in front of Hannibal’s chair and takes one of his hands. 

“I’m sorry I pressed the issue,” he whispers. 

Hannibal shakes his head. “It’s okay. I had every intention of telling you. I was simply waiting until I was ready.”

Will raises an eyebrow. “You just happened to be ready when I asked?”

“No,” Hannibal replies. “When you asked, I had a realization. A breakthrough of my own.”

When Hannibal doesn’t expand on that statement, Will asks, “And that was?”

Tears finally well in Hannibal’s eyes, and he drops his head. His hand squeezes Will’s. 

“I will never be ready to talk about Mischa. I will never...I will never recover from her death.”

Will squeezes Hannibal’s hand in return and leans up to press a kiss to Hannibal’s forehead.

“Shh,” he whispers. “That’s enough for tonight. Let’s go to bed, Hannibal.”

“I need to wash our glasses,” Hannibal replies, starting to pull away.

“The glasses can wait,” Will insists, standing up and pulling Hannibal to his feet. “Come to bed.”

Hannibal finally meets Will’s eyes, and the look on his face breaks Will’s heart. He cups Hannibal’s cheek, wiping tears away with his thumb. He leans his forehead against Hannibal’s, trying to calm him, to ground him.

“Come on.”

Hannibal nods and follows Will to bed silently. They both quick to disrobe and settle under the covers, Will wrapping his arms around Hannibal and holding him close.

"Thank you," Hannibal whispers.

Will kisses his forehead again. "Nothing to thank me for," he says. "I love you. Get some rest."

"I do not think I can," Hannibal replies, ducking his head to hide his face in Will's chest. "I am afraid I will see her when I close my eyes."

Will strokes his hair. "Then don't think about that day," he says. "Think of every day before that. You have a room in your memory palace just for Mischa. Go to it. Sleep there tonight."

Hannibal leans up to kiss Will. In his mind, he is opening a door, and he dozes off just as he steps through it.

That night, he dreams of Mischa. He dreams of her smiling, of cooking for her, of reading to her, of teaching her, of leading her through their hometown; it's the best sleep he's ever gotten.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story please leave a kudos! Comments are super appreciated! If you want to find/follow/friend me on other platforms, here are my usernames! Don’t be shy! 
> 
> @bisexywill on Tumblr (Main Blog)  
> @bisexual-hannibal-lecter on Tumblr (Writing Blog)  
> @bisexywill on Twitter (Writing Updates & Stuff)  
> @baby mongoose#6953 on Discord


End file.
